


A collection of Delia/Patsy double drabbles

by Saraste



Series: Double the Drabble - August 2019 [3]
Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: August of Double Drabbles, Double Drabble, F/F, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-08-14 11:36:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20191642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saraste/pseuds/Saraste
Summary: FLUFF.





	1. always in secret

Delia hates that they need to hide, that there is something so strange and unusual and disallowed in their love that they dare not show it openly, that there is something forbidden; for isn’t love simply love, which one should shout from rooftops and allowed to seal with kisses and holding hands.

They can hold hands, at least, if they dare, if they walk like they are simply two friends walking together, not girlfriends daring to link hands, to act as any other couple could, like they could if one of them was a man, but they cannot kiss and that rankles.

Kissing in secret has its own charms, to be sure, but when it’s the only way they can kiss – outside a place where there are others like them, which is secrecy of its own – it grows old, not as exciting.

She envies all who can kiss freely, hold hands freely and say: “This is the woman I love,” and not be have disbelieving looks thrown her, or worse, pity, or even worse, _concern_.

There are kisses and declarations of love in abundance between them, of course, and there’s always the daring hope that the world _will_ get better.


	2. the weight of the past

They do not start holding hands in public more by any decision on either of their part, instead, it’s a gradual thing which grows organically and simply _happens_. They usually only notice when they have walked holding hands for a while and let go, startled and a little afraid, looking about. And usually that is the thing that draws other people’s attention, not the handholding itself. Then they _do_ hold hands intentionally, daring the world to care. It usually doesn’t.

Not all people are equally tolerant, but it’s better now they are older than it ever was in their youth, as long as they’re a little bit careful, discreet.

Even much later, when both are grey and bent with age, they do not kiss much in public spaces, having never learned how without fear.

But they watch the world around them – some bits of it better, some not – and see all the bright young things holding hands, all the girls with girls and boys with boys and all variations thereupon and they are glad.

Delia does kiss Patsy in public all she likes after they get married, telling anyone who cares to stop and listen how Patsy is her wife.


	3. acceptance & patience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FLUFF.

They dance and the world falls away around them, as cliché as it sounds, yet it does, and there is nothing but each other: their bodies touching, their eyes interlocking, their lips smiling the words they keep to themselves even here, in this place of refuge and acceptance, where they can let their walls fall.

Patsy leads, as she always does, and Delia follows, the steps familiar, her feet sure and needing no guidance but taking Patsy’s lead anywhere… always.

Delia’s petticoat swooshes against Patsy’s sensible trousers, Patsy’s hand is sure on the small of her back, and she’s smiling her unguarded smile; Delia feels elated. She doesn’t think how this night, too, must come to an end, how they will hide once the day comes, not able to tell even those nearest and dearest to them about this, the most important thing in their lives, no, Delia doesn’t think about that at all. Instead, she loses herself in the sway of their bodies together.

Patsy kisses her in the shadows of the street and once more before bed at Nonnatus, no curling in the same bed tonight, and Delia remembers how they danced and tells herself to be patient.


	4. not exactly perfect, but good

Scotland is freedom.

They still cannot live as openly as they’d like, well… as openly as Delia would like, as Patsy has always been private about most aspects of her personal life due to her past, but they can disappear to live together as friends. And what goes on behind closed doors is no-one’s business but their own.

They work and become part of the community, kindly refusing the advances of local young men, citing their work as being the main focus of each of their lives and they like their life in the sometimes-harsh beautiful north which has its definite beauty and opportunities for walking hand in hand in secluded places.

‘Are you happy?’ Delia sometimes asks, reaching out to touch Patsy’s cheek in the mornings. They have separate beds that they push together in the evenings for in case someone visiting should be curious, and Delia loves being able to sleep virtually next to Patsy.

Patsy smiles, her bright private smile, which is not a bit unguarded at all. ‘Yes, yes I am.’ And then she shows Delia just how happy she is, with Delia agreeing vigorously. Life might not be exactly perfect, but it’s good, really good.


	5. a lovely home

Eventually, the curtain of their secrecy gets pulled back a little when Phyllis comes to visit, because Phyllis _knows_. Delia has never talked about it with her, not in so many words, but she knows that Phyllis knows the unspoken hurt she suffered during Patsy’s absence, and that she did not condemn.

‘You have a lovely home,’ Phyllis opines as she’s been walked through their small cottage which stands at the end of the lane in their little spot of Scotland, ‘really lovely.’ Her words take both of them under her wing and Delia can see the tightness of Patsy’s shoulders release.

‘Thank you,’ Patsy says, giving a small smile, ‘it’s mostly Delia’s effort.’

Phyllis is careful, turning to Patsy. ‘You seem very happy here.’

Delia could hug her for her delicate turn of phrase, and she wants to kiss Patsy right on that moment, because Phyllis is safe, she understands.

Patsy smiles, not at full brightness, but she does. ‘I am. We are.’

They don’t discuss what Delia and Patsy are to each other during Phyllis’ visit, but they all still know, and it warms Delia to know they have someone supporting them. It gives her hope for the future.


	6. Agatha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled against writing period-set DelPats as parents but... I CAVED! Because babies!

Parenting with Patsy is quite unlike anything Delia had ever expected it to be and more fulfilling than she had dared hope, and, of course, a source of anxiety as well, because of what she and Patsy are to one another, neither wanting to have to go into hiding in their own home.

Patsy takes to mothering like she had been doing it her whole life, once she lets go of her defences and allows herself to fall in love with the little girl, their little Agatha, their little girl now, _their daughter_.

Legally, she is only Patsy’s, but in their hearts, she is both of theirs.

They curtail their expressions of affection somewhat, so that they are used to it again, when her friends come to visit. Although, it is commonly known that there is something queer about the two of them, two unmarried women living together and working the same profession, but silence is a hushed acceptance and they are largely unbothered now.

Agatha kisses them both on the cheek when she goes to school in the morning, and there are cuddles and laughter all around, every day.

Life isn’t perfect, but all the more precious for it.


	7. no sane person

They have the beach all to themselves, which is not surprising given that it  _ is _ November in Scotland and no sane person goes wandering a beach in November in Scotland.

Well, they’re neither of them Scots, so they are forgiven in the eyes of the locals for behaving a little oddly sometimes and also because they are well liked in their adopted community, which is in some ways more forgiving and less prying than their lives have ever been before, even in London.

And they have a perfect excuse for being at the beach: Garbo loves running across the sand and splashing into the waves. It’s a messy business, to be sure, with her long coat and sand everywhere, but her unbridled doggy delight is such a joy to both Delia and Patsy, that they gladly put up with cleaning up the mess when at home in their little cottage.

The beach, and their other walks, allow for them to hold hands, even sneak the occasional kiss if they are particularly bold.

Right now the wind whips at stray wisps of Patsy’s hair, Delia turning for a kiss while Garbo barks and jumps around in the water. 

Life is good.


	8. for all the world to see

They’re firmly in middle age when they first dare to kiss in public.

They have kissed before in company, to be sure, but only among friends and the family they found for themselves, who do not judge them but sympathize with the hardships that they have needed to endure, living their truth in shadows, always hiding because the ugly specter of someone taking offense and turning to violence or them losing their careers because of their ‘wrongness’, and the sacrifices they have had to make, the dreams they have had to bury.

But they are old now (‘Not  _ that _ old, Dels, my love!’ Patsy’s always saying) and it’s the future and they have seen the world change around them, to be more tolerant and inclusive, less judging.

And it might not be completely perfect even now, but it’s perfect enough to kiss, to plant a firm, undeniable smooch onto Patsy’s lips as they march in the Pride Parade with others who are happy to be there, who are there defending and celebrating their right to love and to live, because today the world is theirs today and there is nothing but love.

Patsy kisses her back for all to see.


	9. a gardening genius

Patsy looks down at the basket Delia is holding, which is absolutely bulging with bulbs of varied sizes. ‘That is a lot of bulbs,’ she says, as if Delia isn’t already quite aware of said fact.

Delia grins. ‘I know! Can’t wait to see them all bloom in spring.’ Her eyes are bright like stars.

‘But where will you plan them all?’ 

‘Oh, I’m sure they’ll all squeeze in somewhere.’

Delia is so delighted and innocently excited about her plans for their garden that Patsy just has to share her joy, and kiss her, but she always wants to kiss Delia, so that’s nothing new. She kisses and Delia kisses back.

‘I’m sure that you can fit them in,’ Patsy says when they come apart and Delia is still thankfully holding onto the basket with not a single bulb having fallen off, ‘you’re a gardening genius!’

‘And you’re just being silly!

Patsy pats Delia’s head, on which she has a beret, and then smooths her hands down her shoulders and her warm coat and makes sure that her scarf is snugly around her neck. ‘I might be, but I’ll have a hot brew ready for you when you’re finished.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by my... reasonable order of spring-flowering bulbs I just put an order in for yesterday. (Although I cannot explain why they AREN'T gardening together?)


	10. out of the mouths of babes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This goes together in the same AU-verse as "Agatha", just couldn't resist more family fluff, even if this one comes with a dash of angst.

Delia thinks that her heart might shatter when Agatha asks — quite unexpectedly when they are baking together while Patsy is away helping to aid the Fraser’s third child into the world across the dale — she asks: ‘When did you know you loved mommy?’

Delia is at a loss for words, staring down at the pie pan with the crust already in place, just waiting for the sliced apples to be added so it can go into the oven. Agatha is six and has never asked about that before, even when she’s never shy asking about anything and everything else. ‘Well…’

Agatha sounds worried now. ‘Don’t you love mummy?’

‘Of course I do! Don’t be silly!’

There are small and sticky arms around her, gripping her into a tight hug and her skirt where it’s not covered by her apron get stained but she doesn’t care. ‘I’m so glad you’re my mummy, too!’

She pats Agatha’s head. ‘I know,  _ caread _ , I know.’

‘And I won’t tell…’ is said into the folds of the apron, a secret and a promise which breaks Delia’s heart and makes her wish for a better world.

‘I love you, Aggie,’ seems not enough.


End file.
